Sunlit Days
by Darkflame's Pyre
Summary: What happens when you have five growing boys, and combine them with a long, hot summer? Complete and utter chaos! Movie-verse.


**A/N: Here's another foray into Wee!Tracys. This one is a result of my sadness that summer is now at an end in my part of the world. Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If not for Sylvia and Gerry Anderson, I would not be able to play in this wonderful playground, so no, I do not own the Thunderbirds.**

Dust motes flew in the air above my head, golden shafts of sunlight slanting down across my face and chest to warm my skin through the fabric of my light cotton t-shirt.

One would normally think lying in the loft of a barn in the middle of the day when heat rises is pretty daft, but it was actually nice and comfortable where I was leaning up against a hay-bale. My book was resting on my knees and the cold bottle of orange juice I had swiped from the kitchen earlier was sitting half-finished at my side. Yum.

"Oomph!" I couldn't make any other sound. Nope. The extent of my vocabulary consisted of merely an exhalation of breath. Such was the consequences of hyper seven-year-olds as they throw themselves full-force into your lap.

"Gordon!" I cried breathlessly, as the small redhead bounced on my knees, half squashing the pages of my poor defenceless paperback beneath his bony backside. "Get off! You're pulverising my book!"

My second-youngest brother, having realised that he was once again in a spot of trouble, sheepishly backed off. He shimmied off of my legs to rest on the straw-strewn floor, scrubbed-red knees suspiciously bright in the light from the small window above our heads.

Frowning lightly as I rescued my book, laying it safely behind me, I rubbed the offending limbs, smiling slightly as Gordon let out a squeak; my fingertips tickling the sensitive skin.

"Did you bang them into the ladder again?" I watched as he opened his mouth, presumably about to deny it vehemently, but seeing the smirk I felt worm its way across my face, he nodded, his own grin spreading tentatively.

"So…?" I asked him. "Why the sudden cannonball?" Gordon's face lit up a Christmas tree as he recalled what he had come flying up for.

"Scott said that Mama said that we could go down to the dam and go swimming! Scott said that I had to come and get you and to hurry up 'cause we only get until four o'clock because Grandma's coming for dinner, and you know how Grandma gets when we're late for meals!"

I raised my eyebrows, very much impressed that Gordon had been able get that all out in only two breaths, as puffed out as he was from his obvious sprint in here to come and get me.

"Oh… I dunno Gords…." I said thoughtfully, trying to keep my face straight, fighting the smirk that I could feel twitching at the corners of my mouth. "I might want to stay here, and you know that Dad likes me and Scott to both be there if you and Virge are swimming."

I fully intended to draw it out a little, but I found that I couldn't do it as I watched my red-headed brother's face fall with disappointment.

"Alright." I relented, stretching my arms above my head. "Run ahead and tell Scott I've gotta change, and I'll be there as soon as I can."

Gordon's face just literally shined with happiness as he wheeled around to scramble pell-mell down the loft ladder to the ground floor.

Shaking my head at my brother's antics, I gathered up the items I had brought up with me, and placed them back into my pack. Slinging it over a shoulder, I headed down the ladder myself —though my descent was much slower than the one that came before it.

I grimaced slightly as I stepped out into the burning heat of the Kansas summer, the sunlight blasting into my eyes. I shaded them as I began my trek back across the paddock to the back of the house, wondering how on earth my brother had found the energy to run all the way in this weather.

Ha. Who was I kidding? Gordon had almost unlimited reserves of energy. If we could find a way to somehow produce power the way my little brother did, there would be no way anyone would ever have trouble paying their bills ever again.

I walked into the coolness of the front room to hear utter chaos erupting from the upper levels.

"Gordon!" That was almost-ten-year-old Virgil. "Why is your stupid fish collection all over the bathroom floor? I wanted a towel, but I nearly killed myself falling over your Fishys!"

I grinned at that. For no apparent reason other than to drive the rest of the house batty, Gordon had named every single one of his plastic fish 'Fishy'.

"Mom!" Scott was next, apparently. "I can't find my swimming trunks! I thought I'd packed them back in the drawers in the study with the rest, but they're not there!"

I smirked as Mom came in from the laundry-room holding a basket of what appeared to be towels and clothes. Spotting me, she reached into the basket and pulled out what I clearly knew were Scott's trunks. I realised with a grin that it had been over a year since my brother had last worn the faded red shorts, and I knew that there was no way a rapidly growing fourteen-year-old was going to fit in them now.

Attracted to the lower levels of the house by either the subconscious feeling that he was being communicated about, or the fact that Mom hadn't actually answered him yet, my eldest brother came rocketing down the stairs.

He had an old flannel shirt unbuttoned over his torso and was wearing faded cargo shorts, the Yankees cap that our Dad had gifted him for his last birthday turned backwards on his dark brown hair. Skidding to a halt in front of Mom, he had obviously seen his old trunks, and had clearly come to the same conclusion that I had. What was he going to wear for swimming?

I watched in amusement as my mom's mouth twitched, and she reached into her pocket to pull out a brand-new pair of shorts in the radioactive green shade that my brother had recently declared was his new favourite.

Grabbing them, he pulled Mom into a swift embrace, seemingly able to balance the clothes basket and still be able to wrap her into one of his bear hugs. I was interested to realise that he was almost of a height with Mom, though she wasn't really that tall to begin with. It just meant that he'd be catching up to Dad fairly soon.

Our father had been away a lot recently, defining the details of the aerospace development company he was attempting to get off of the ground. He had promised that he would be back home almost two days ago, but there had been a complication with a part of the deal he was trying to secure, and we had no idea when he was going to arrive.

"Thanks Mom!" Dark blue eyes, sparkling with glee then appeared to notice me in the doorway. "Come on, Johnny! Did Gordy tell you we're going to the dam?"

I nodded my head, still kind of bleary after the intense brightness of the day outside. "I just gotta change…"

"Here…John." Fishing into the basket with her free hand, Mom pulled out a midnight-dark pair of trunks, brand-new with a shooting star on the pocket that I knew she had ironed on just for me.

"Thanks, Mama." I smiled softly as I took them from her, giving her a fleeting hug as thanks, before pulling away and turning to head up the stairs.

Plodding along slowly, as I admired the silvery sheen of the iron-on design, I nearly fell over as Virgil came darting out of his bedroom. Towel in hand, he was wearing his Kansas City Cowboys sweatshirt, and his old pair of swim shorts.

"Hey, Johnny!" He grinned at me, the gap in his tooth making his words whistle through it as he spoke. "What you got there?"

"New shorts." I replied. "If you go down, I'm pretty sure that Mom'll have a pair for you as well. Scott and I have ours already."

Nodding, he passed me, and copied our eldest brother's trick in almost flying down the stairs.

Shaking my head at the way my brothers couldn't seem to get anywhere other than at the speed of light, I headed into my room to change and gather the items I needed to take down to the dam in the field a few miles away.

Emerging ten minutes later, my backpack over my shoulders again, I heard the unmistakable sound of crying, coming from the bedroom at the end of the hall nearest our parent's room.

Narrowing my eyes slightly, I changed course from where I was headed, dropping my bag in the hall, and slowly opened the door of my littlest brother's room. I peered inside.

"Allie?" The small boy, who was the only other person besides me out of us kids who had blonde hair, looked up at me from the floor, blue eyes bright and swimming with tears. Tucking my hands beneath his armpits, I hefted the slight form of my three-year-old brother onto my hip; shushing him rhythmically as he clung to my chest. I noticed distractedly that he was already wearing a pair of dark green shorts and a blue t-shirt.

"What's the matter, Allie-bear?" I cooed to the sobbing boy. "Why are you on the floor, huh?"

Sniffling, Alan looked up again, small face red with the force of sobs that had now turned to hiccups. "I fell offa my bed, J'onny…" It appeared that the sobs might make a comeback as the memories of his apparent trauma resurfaced, despite my attempts at consoling him.

I had to admit, I felt a little out of my depth. As a bit of an abnormality in a family that was very much for heartfelt embraces and gruff rumplings of hair, I wasn't really one who gave out hugs often, but for Allie, who honestly preferred to be in someone's arms than without, I generally made an exception.

Carrying him out of the room, I stooped down to collect my bag. Bouncing the kid on my hip slightly, I chattered to him as we headed back down to the bottom level. I found out that he had been copying something he had seen Gordon doing and had apparently slipped and bruised his knees on the floorboards, much like his immediate older brother had done with the ladder barely twenty minutes ago.

He was much calmer by the time we reached the kitchen, where I had headed after hearing most of my family grabbing last-minute things for the picnic lunch I assumed that we'd be having.

"Oh, Allie." Mom sighed as she caught sight of the kid's red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. "What happened?"

"He fell off his bed, Mom." I handed him over to her as she cooed over his boo-boo. Grabbing the bottles of water that were sat on the counter, I slid them into my bag, fastening the straps, before sitting it on the floor to go over to the table to give Gordon a hand with his laces.

"No…" He shook his head, despite the fact that he was clearly struggling. "I can do it Johnny…"

Nodding in acquiescence, I suddenly heard a tapping at the door.

As she could already see that Virgil and Scott were finishing off the sandwiches, Mom, without looking up from tending to Alan, asked. "John, sweetie? Could you please get the door?"

Nodding again, I wondered who it could be. I could see from my vantage point at the table that the person whose shadow I could see through the clouded glass in the front door was definitely too tall to be Grandma or Grandpa. Heading down the short hall to the front door, I turned the knob and opened it.

Eyes widening, a huge grin swept across my face. "Dad!"

Jefferson Tracy, one of my favourite people in the world, stood on the front porch, a huge grin spreading across his tanned face; shirt-sleeves rolled up against the heat, suit pants rumpled, but there was no indication in his voice that he cared in the least. "Hiya, Squirt."

Grinning, I went willingly into his embrace. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be at least a couple more days..."

"Nah." He smiled. "A little bird told me that there's a picnic and swimming going on today, and I really didn't want to miss your mother's chocolate cake!"

I immediately grabbed his arm and dragged him over to where my mom and brothers were standing back in the doorway to the kitchen, at least until Alan and Gordon banged into him with the combined force of dual hurricanes.

Watching as my dad picked up the Terrible Two simultaneously in his strong arms, Alan chattering a million miles an hour into his ear, I knew that the rest of the summer was going to be brilliant!

**A/N: I had to do one that included Lucille…. Please let me know what you all think. **

**-Pyre. Xx**


End file.
